Ten Years Later
by tropicalgirlie
Summary: See description in story...just my salute to the heroes of September 11th, using those events as inspiration for this story.  The first chapter might not end the way you might like, but hold on...I promise not to disappoint!
1. Chapter 1

**I started this story when I was in New York this past August for work. When I visited Ground Zero and the Memorial Museum I was absolutely overcome with emotions I never knew I could feel. I was a senior in high school on September 11****th****, 2001. I knew that my experiences in New York would stick with me, as I'm sure they have the hundreds of other people who have visited that site, not to mention the people who were directly affected that day ten years ago.**

**This idea came to me, because when I thought of all the heroes that sacrificed themselves for others, Booth popped into my head as one of those people.**

**Please know that I'm not trying to diminish or take away from anything that the true heroes of that day did. I am simply trying to tell a story, using events from that tragic time for inspiration. I know that if Seeley Booth were a real person, and had he been in New York City, he would have been on the front lines with all of the other firemen and policemen, first responders and other volunteers that were at ground zero.**

**I really hope that I get this out the way I want. I thank you so much for reading it and reviewing however you see fit. There will be several chapters I'm thinking, but I wanted to get this part out before the 10****th**** anniversary of 9/11. Thank you again.**

_**(Side note: this takes place after Hannah but not following the end of season six. Assume that the events of "The Hole in the Heart" and after did not happen.)**_

The cool air of late summer was just starting to tickle the yellow ends of the maple leaves when Booth entered the Jeffersonian. It was a Thursday evening, September 8th to be exact. Booth waited until late evening to arrive, because he didn't want to talk to a lot of people. He actually stood across the street for several minutes until he saw Angela and Hodgins leave, Michael sleeping in his father's arms. He couldn't help but smile at the happy couple, regardless of his current mood, the sight of happiness and love could always lift his spirits. Watching them walk around the building to the corner where their car sat, Booth crossed the road and entered the Jeffersonian, his heart set on talking to just one person.

Brennan was sitting in her office typing when Booth entered the door. The lights were off, several candles sat lit and dripping around her computer monitor. He could hear Frank Sinatra singing low from the stereo in the corner, and he couldn't help but smile. The woman who sat before him had certainly changed in the years he had known her.

She was engrossed in what she was writing, and didn't notice Booth standing there, observing her. Her hair was down, her bangs straying slightly into her face. She used her right index finger to push them away from her eyes, her hand quickly returning to the keyboard. Booth followed the outline of her forehead, down her nose, finally landing on her lips. Her face was highlighted in the artificial light from the computer screen, and Booth watched as Brennan leaned back to read what she'd just finished.

She licked her lips, and Booth watched with baited breath as her eyes scanned the screen as she fixed typos, and scanning the document for needed changes. Finally Booth realized that he needed to get her attention before she caught him spying. He reached up slowly and knocked gently on the open door. Brennan looked up immediately at the noise.

"Booth? What are you doing here?" She pushed back from her desk, turning to face him. "Is everything alright?" Her brow furrowed as she searched his face.

"Yeah, everything's fine." He walked in silently and sat down on the couch in her office.

"Is there a case? Should I call Angela and Hodgins back?" Her face turned to a look of concern at the odd expression on Booth's face. "Booth, are you okay?"

He gave a small chuckle. "Yeah I'm fine. No, you don't have to call anyone back. There isn't a case." He ran a hand through his hair. "I was wondering if you had plans for this weekend." He slumped down into a chair across from her desk, feeling really tired. Brennan didn't understand why.

"I was going to work on my next novel, but other than that, no. What are you doing this weekend?" She had stopped typing and had her full focus on Booth. She knew something was going on, and she was concerned.

"Well I was wondering if you wanted to come to New York with me. I'm going to visit some old friends, and I could really use some company."

Brennan was even more confused. Why would Booth want company if he was going to visit friends? She was about to ask him, but he reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. Her eyes found his, and the look of desperation there answered any questions she might have. "Okay, I'll come with you. When do we leave?"

Their plane landed at La Guardia just after eleven am the next day. It had taken some finagling, but Booth was able to book another hotel room at the same hotel as his, but not the same floor. Brennan had booked them two first class plane tickets so that they could at least sit together on the short trip to New York.

They both carried on their luggage, so they avoided baggage claim. Booth was prepared to grab a cab, but as they came down the final corridor in the airport, he saw a man in a suit holding a sign that read "Dr. Brennan" He grinned to himself then glanced down at his partner. She looked up at him and simply stated, "I've been to New York several times, and was never fond of the cab drivers." Booth wouldn't argue and the man took Brennan's suitcase and led them outside to his black town car.

The ride to their hotel was fairly quiet. Brennan went between watching the scenery and watching her partner. He had a very solemn look on his face as he watched the buildings and people go by. She still didn't understand what they were doing here, or why he needed her there as well. It didn't matter though. He needed her, and she was there.

They checked in to the hotel, a Hampton Inn on 39th street. Booth had room 2401 and Brennan was in 1704. They went their separate ways to unpack, but were going to meet up in the lobby in twenty minutes to explore and grab a bite to eat for lunch.

Brennan stepped off the elevator with a small smile, but felt wistful when the door shut behind her. Something was up with Booth, but he wasn't ready to talk about it, and Brennan decided not to push him. He was better with emotions than she, and he would share when he was ready. She pulled her bag down the small hallway to her room and entered.

It was small, but typical for a hotel in the city. Two full size beds, a small dresser with a television, and a view of another building side across the alley from her window. She hadn't really known what to pack, but since they were only here until Sunday night, she mostly packed comfortable clothing. However, she did pack one dress, just in case they decided to go out. Hanging that up in the standing closet, she quickly unpacked toiletries and shoes and then glanced around the room, satisfied that everything was in its place, she changed into a white thermal shirt and blue jeans and decided to head back down to the lobby to wait for Booth, and to ask at the front desk about good places to eat.

Booth pulled his suitcase into the small room and let the door fall shut. He glanced around, noticing two beds and not much else. The room was small, but it would do. He tossed his razor and toothbrush into the bathroom and put his suitcase on one of the beds. Opening the curtains he got a view of the hotel across the alley, so he closed the curtains and pulled the shade down. Deciding that he didn't want to be in the room alone, he decided to head down to the lobby and wait for Brennan.

They ended up at a small deli several blocks from their hotel. Brennan ordered a big salad and Booth got a burger and fries. Brennan chuckled to herself, that even though they were in a different state, it was like being home. Brennan filled the silence with stories of her previous trips to New York. She'd been on several book tours, and done several lectures and seminars here before she'd even met Booth. He listened intently, asking questions about her travels. As they ate, Brennan stole several of his fries, and he couldn't help the small grin that crossed his lips. Good ole Bones.

"Thanks for coming with me, Bones."

"It's no problem Booth. When are you meeting up with your friends?" Brennan ate the last bits of lettuce on her plate and finished her water.

"Probably tonight." He paused, watching her expression. "Will you come with me?" Brennan furrowed her brow.

"I will if you want me to, Booth. Who exactly are these friends?" She snatched one more fry off his plate. "I don't want to pry, but it just seems like you're not being very forth coming about this whole trip." Booth leaned back in his seat, and Brennan could tell he was shutting down. She immediately regretted her words. "Booth, I'm sorry. This is obviously very important to you. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."

Booth reached out and took her hand again. She looked down at his strong hand covering hers, then back up to his brown eyes. She saw emotion there that she'd never seen before. "I'm sorry, Bones. You're right. Let's go see them right now." He tossed his napkin onto his plate, and though his eyes still looked sad, there was a faint smile there too. "Do you trust me?"

The subway ride to the World Trade Center took only about ten minutes, and Brennan climbed up the paved steps in silence behind Booth. Her science couldn't explain it, but there was something in the air here that made her stomach clench and her mood depress. Glancing at Booth she noticed it was affecting him as well. His jaw was set in a hard clench and his eyes looked far away. She was about to say something, but he silently took her hand and led her down the side walk.

As they turned the corner, an old churchyard and cemetery came into view. Though the religious aspect of the church was lost on Brennan, she marveled at the beautiful architecture of the old stone building. The gravestones in the cemetery in front of the building were weathered and quick observation made Brennan think they were at least two hundred years old. She wished to linger, but a gentle tug on her hand pulled her in the opposite direction. She obliged, following her partner down the sidewalk, watching the faces of the people passing by until finally Booth stopped outside a fire station. Brennan glanced up at the sign above the open doors. It read "Ten House" and all of the garage spots were empty except for one. Several fire fighters milled around the truck, and one of them looked up as Booth and Brennan passed.

"Seeley Booth, you son of a bitch!" One of the men came out, wearing a black t-shirt and his uniform pants and suspenders. He had dark hair gelled back and fierce blue eyes. He approached Booth and enveloped him in a hug. Brennan watched as the first genuine smile crossed Booth's face since they'd gotten here. Booth chuckled as he gave the man a squeeze.

"Hey Luke, how ya doin'?" Booth pulled back, shaking the man's hand. Several other firemen approached, some with looks of recognition on their faces, and some not, just curious at the visitor. "Hey Adam, Frank, Nate." Booth shook hands around the group, and finally realized that several eyes had fallen on Brennan. "Hey, guys, this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan." One guy, Brennan thought it was Luke actually wolf whistled, but all of them men shook her hand, and Brennan saw some of them make knowing eyes at Booth.

"I work at the Jeffersonian Institution." She shook Nate's hand, but he cocked his head, as if deep in thought as he looked at her.

"You're a Forensic Anthropologist, right?" Nate questioned and Brennan nodded. "I've read your books. They are really great." Brennan smiled, finally letting go of Nate's hand and taking a step closer to Booth.

"I was hoping you'd drag your ass back up here this weekend, " Adam spoke, and Brennan watched as the group welcomed Booth, chatting and catching up. Booth didn't really forget that Brennan was there, but Brennan could tell that Booth was more relaxed than he initially thought he would be, and Brennan slowly extricated herself from the group to look around some more.

There was a huge Bronze mural on the side of the fire house. The first panel had six men etched on it, all firemen, in uniform with the words 'all gave some. some gave all. we will never forget.' Brennan felt her heart catch as she looked at the faces on the mural, frozen in time as they were before September 11th. Brennan then realized why they were here. Booth was somehow connected to that fateful day, but he'd never spoken of it before. Her heart swelled for him as she continued to follow the mural along the firehouse. It followed along with many firemen behind a fire truck then it blossomed into many tall buildings, and the two tallest of all; one on fire and one exploding. Brennan felt tears well up in her eyes at the final words imprinted in the bronze. "Dedicated to those who fell, and those who carry on." Brennan remembered exactly where she was in 2001 on September 11th. She had been giving a lecture at the George Washington University when the call had come that a plane had crashed into WTC 1. At first it had seemed an accident, and Brennan had not excused class. However, once the second plane hit and one was headed towards the Pentagon, all hell broke loose. Students left campus, and Brennan herself remembered feeling scared. Not much scared her, but terrorism was something that even though she could understand rationally, it terrified her. She had fled to the Jeffersonian and watched the news all day and all night.

She had thrown Hodgins out of her office near midnight because she couldn't stand his conspiracy theories. She had stayed in her office, falling asleep on the couch only to wake near morning to continue watching the news. She remembered it vividly. Apparently Booth had been in New York that day. Brennan didn't know, but she was glad that she had come here with him.

"Bones?" Brennan turned from the mural to see Booth's face, a mix of emotions, both happy and sad.

"You were here on 9/11?" Brennan tipped her head, trying to read the emotion in Booth's eyes. He nodded.

"I'm gonna grab a beer with the guys." Brennan could tell that there was not an invitation there, and though it stung briefly, she didn't want to get in the way.

"Alright, I'll meet you later for dinner maybe?" Brennan left it open incase Booth stayed out late.

"Definitely." Unexpectedly he leaned down, brushing his lips across her cheek. "Thanks, Bones."

Brennan suddenly had the afternoon to herself, and though she'd been to New York City several times, it was always for business, and she'd never really done any sightseeing. She took the train back up to 42nd street, but instead of heading back to the hotel, she ventured towards Times Square. She stepped into a small deli for a sandwich and coffee, and decided to sit outside at one of the tables in Times Square to eat.

Many interesting people went by, and Brennan soon realized that this was a Mecca of forensic and cultural study. One man walked by wearing nothing but nylons and a hula skirt made out of candy necklaces, and yet no one seemed to bat an eye. She grinned to herself, wishing Booth was there to see it. She sipped her coffee slowly, reveling in its warmth. Though the air was still warm in September, a cool breeze flowed between the buildings setting a slight chill in her bones.

She sat for almost an hour, finally deciding to get up and browse some shops around the area. There were many touristy stores, and she wasn't going to go into any of them until she saw a display of socks in one window. Her lips curled into a smile and she went in to make a purchase.

The afternoon and early evening slipped away from her, and before Brennan realized it, it was nearing seven pm. She decided to head back to the hotel to wait for Booth. She took a quick shower and was just going to blow dry her hair when there was a knock at her door. She pulled her bathrobe tight around her and looked through the peephole. Concern flooding her heart, she pulled open the door.

Booth stumbled into her room, eyes bloodshot and bleary. She had to half catch him so he wouldn't fall to the floor. She helped him to the bed, pulling a trash can up next to him just in case. "Booth, what happened?" He reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. "Where are your friends?" She sat down next to him on the bed, holding a hand up to his forehead to check his temperature. He was hot but not feverish.

"Don't know. I left them hours ago." He looked ashamed, almost desperate, and Brennan wished he would keep talking, but he hung his head. Without thinking, she pulled him close and he rested his head on the front of her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his wet hair, speaking softly. He wrapped his arms around her, soaking her bathrobe with his rain slicked arms. "Bones, you can't imagine…" She could barely hear him, and gently lifted his face to meet hers.

"Booth?" It was a whisper, the air wooshing out of her lungs at the sorrow in his eyes. There was something there that was absolutely desperate. She had never in the seven years she'd known him, seen such turmoil in his face. Before she knew it, his face drifted towards her and she felt the heat of his breath just before his lips touched hers.

It was unexpected, but the desperation in his eyes couldn't be ignored, and the same knowledge that told Brennan that her lungs needed air to function, she knew that Booth needed this to survive. Without thinking, she responded to his kiss, her bottom lip quivering between his. Suddenly Booth pulled away, regret masking the other emotions on his face, "Bones…" He took a deep breath, and Brennan took that moment and reached for him again, kissing him with more vigor. Booth jumped slightly, but then responded in turn, running his tongue gently across her lips. A moan escaped her throat of its own volition, and her lips parted, allowing Booth access.

He tasted of tequila and spice and something that she could only equate with Booth, but suddenly it didn't matter. Sensation was overloading her rational thinking, and she could feel his emotions, almost mimicking his desperation.

He pressed her down into the bed until his full weight was on top of her. She pushed his wet jacket off his shoulders, realizing quickly that she wanted this as much as Booth needed it. He ripped his shirt off, tossing it into a wet heap on the floor. He leaned over her face and several rain drops dripped onto her cheeks, but neither of them made a move to brush them away.

Booth carefully leaned back and pulled the tie loose on Brennan's robe, brushing the silk off of her skin. She finally lay exposed in front of him, and that was all it took. He stood up, quickly divulging himself of his remaining clothing. Brennan sucked in a breath at the sight of him, fully sober now and fully aroused.

He came back to her, pressing desperate kisses to her lips as she spread her legs for him. Without asking for permission he thrust himself inside her, groaning at how wet she already was for him. He felt amazing, but she didn't have time to fully enjoy it as he was already thrusting desperately into her, and she was meeting him movement for movement.

She hooked her ankles behind his back and he was lost. She brushed her fingers down his chest, feeling him begin to shake with impending orgasm. He closed his eyes in concentration, thrusting several more times into her before letting out a guttural groan as he released everything he had into her. She held him tight as he quaked through his torturous pleasure.

She felt his arms shake, and knew that he was spent. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of holding him so close. She felt him move and pull out of her, and her eyes opened as he quickly got up, moving away from the bed and into the bathroom. Just as the door closed she heard him being sick and she cringed.

She sat in silence, listening as the toilet finally flushed and she heard the shower start. It only ran for several minutes, but finally it turned off and a few minutes later Booth came out of the bathroom. He wore no clothes and just as he reached the bed, he collapsed on it, facing Brennan. He said nothing, and she pulled the blankets up over both of them. He closed his eyes, unwilling to meet her concerned gaze. Finally her concern got the best of her.

"Booth, please talk to me." Her voice was laced with concern, and Booth gave a small shudder.

"Bones, I…" She was about to speak again when he began.

"I was visiting some friends at the firehouse when the first plane hit. It sounded like a cannon firing, or you know how after a loud gunshot there is a hollow echo that rings through your ears? It was just like that. We ran outside and saw a huge ball of fire explode out of the north tower. It was so surreal." He closed his eyes, watching it all unfold again in his mind. She took his hand and squeezed it.

"Everyone snapped into action. The firehouse was right there, so the men didn't even get in the truck, they just started running towards the north tower. I followed them, but the police wouldn't let me in the building. I watched two of my friend run through the doors without stopping…" His eyes met Brennan's and they were so full of sorrow she thought her heart would literally burst. "People started running out." He took a shallow, shaky breath. "People everywhere on the sidewalk just stopped and watched the building burn. By then most of the flames were gone, there was just this grey white smoke floating out of the top of the tower.

"I could hear sirens in the distance as more fire trucks and ambulances got closer and closer." Another breath. "I didn't know what to do. I ran to St. Paul's church and prayed. I prayed for the lives of the people on that plane, and in the tower." He laughed ruefully, and Brennan cringed internally at the sound. "We didn't know it was a terror attack. Everyone thought it was just an accident." Another pause. "More and more people came in and pretty soon the cathedral was full. Lots of people were crying, and some were just sitting there." He wouldn't meet her eyes, and that was okay. She could tell that he hadn't shared this story with anyone, and if this was what he needed; to get this out, then she would listen until he was finished.

"We were in the church when the second plane hit. It was so loud, and that's when I knew…" His features changed to those of anger. "I ran outside and it was just chaotic. The north tower had greasy black smoke just pluming out of it, and a huge fireball was engulfing the south tower." Brennan gave his hand a squeeze, urging him on. "Bones," his voice cracked and he lowered it to a raspy whisper. "Papers were floating around everywhere from the sky. It looked more like a celebration than what it was. The police began herding people north. I tried again to get closer to the buildings, but I was stopped; some other men tried to get through with me, but it was impossible. We helped the people that we could to get away from the World Trade Center. I don't know how long we were there. We ran into stores to get water for people." He sniffed.

"Booth, it's okay, you don't have to…"

"Yeah, I do." He finally met her gaze, and Brennan could do nothing but nod lightly, staying silent.

"I looked up and saw debris falling, then I heard someone scream. I realized that it wasn't debris. It was people, Bones." A tear slid down his cheek and landed on the pillow. "People were jumping from the towers. They disappeared from sight before the end, and I watched eight people fall before I had to look away." Booth pressed his lips together and Brennan felt his hand shake. "I felt like I was going to be sick, and I just ran. There were more and more people running north, and I followed them." Brennan was about to speak when he continued.

"We ran up Church Street for at least a mile. Maybe more. I finally stopped when I heard a rumbling. I didn't realize at the time how much time had passed, but we all looked up and watched the South Tower just collapse. It was just gone. I knew my friends were dead." He was silent for a long time, then, and Brennan waited silently, only moving to brush another tear off of his cheek. He leaned into her touch and met her eyes again. They looked at each other, and Brennan could feel in that moment what Booth had been feeling for ten years.

"Uh, I don't know how much time passed, but finally the smoke reached us. It wasn't as thick that far away, but it had this smell; I don't even know how to describe it." More fire trucks were heading towards the wreckage and I followed them. Not long after the North Tower came down, and we were all pushed back north. I think it was 10:30 when people started emerging out of the second trail of smoke that came towards us.

Everyone was covered in gray dust. Their hair, their faces, their clothes. Everything. We began running towards them and past them. Everyone looked the same. People were coughing and gagging everywhere. Debris littered the streets almost up to the curb. I don't even know what it was; paper and dust and wood and steel, maybe bodies. I just focused on getting back to find the rest of my friends.

"Paramedics were pulling stretchers away from the wreckage and as I got closer to the buildings, the air got thicker and it was hard to breath. I ripped the sleeve off my shirt and tied it around my face.

"It took a long time to get back to the crash site. We didn't even know about the Pentagon crash or Flight 93. The sound around us was deafening. There were sirens everywhere, and people screaming and crying.

"Finally we got closer, and I saw several firemen carrying a body, and I knew who it was. I had just met him that morning; it was the fire department chaplain, Mychal Judge. Did you know he was the first body pulled from the towers?" Brennan shook her head, hastily brushing a tear off her own cheek.

"He was sitting in an office chair that was carried by five men. His head was tipped off to the side, and he looked like he was sleeping. The men carrying him were covered in dust. They didn't look at anyone as they walked by.

"It was around three pm when people really started getting organized. Enough smoke and dust had cleared that we could get closer, and the fire trucks were still spraying the buildings with water. People were forming chains to help move any rubble that they could. I joined a group of men that were nailing planks of wood to four by fours to make gurneys. We spent hours nailing wood together. I don't even know how many we built, but we filled over ten truck trailers.

"They had to bring in big beam lights because the sky was just blacked out with smoke and dust. It went on through the afternoon; we built stretchers, brought water to firemen and tried to do what we could to calm people down. By this time there were survivors looking for other survivors, and family members looking for the lost.

"I finally had to take a break around eight. It was starting to get dark, and there were hundreds of people still working. I moved off down a side road to get away from the masses of people and I saw a van flipped over. It was a stunning blue. It was covered in dust and laying amongst the debris. There was a fireman sitting by the front, his head in his hands. He was weeping."

Booth shook his head, "I just collapsed, I fell asleep in the street against a taxi that was parked nearby."

Brennan waited in silence for a moment, then finally spoke, "I'm so sorry Booth."

He let out a heavy sigh, "Me too. When I woke up it was dark, around midnight. I moved back towards the firehouse, hoping to get news. That's when I met Nate and Luke. They had been working all day and were going back to the station to get word on the rest of their crew. I asked them about my friends, and I found out that all of them were dead."

"So the men I met today?" Booth shook his head.

"I met all of them after the attack. I spent the next three days working with them to move debris and search for survivors. Our group pulled out seven survivors." The first real smile played at his lips since he'd come back to the hotel. Jamie Thompson, Jennifer Singleton, Matthew Fanning, Kasey Masters, Anna Michaelson, Connie Jenkins and Melody Jenkins."

Somehow Brennan knew that was the end of his account, and she lay her hand on his cheek. "You're a hero, Booth."

He scoffed, but was touched at her words. "We lost so many people, Bones. We pulled over twenty bodies out, and that was just while I was there. I don't even know their names. So many people died that day."

"But seven people lived because of you, Booth. You're a hero to them." He tipped his head and kissed her palm.

"Thanks, Bones."

In that moment, Brennan could see Booth's eyes lighten, and his face soften. She knew, though she could not explain how, that Booth would be okay. Getting out his story was like removing a tumor, and Brennan could feel the atmosphere in the room changing. The sorrow that had surrounded her during their love making was slipping away, being replaced by contentment and fulfillment. Brennan had no reasoning behind it, but she knew it to be true.

"Thanks, Bones."

_**To Be Continued…**_


	2. The Next Morning

Brennan woke to an odd sensation; warmth radiated next to her that she was unfamiliar with. As she began to regain focus in the dimly lit room, the events of the previous night came back to her, and a small grin crossed her face. She took a deep breath and then opened her eyes, wanting to see Booth's face smiling back at her. The reality was quite different.

Booth sat up in the bed leaning on the headboard, his arms crossed firmly across his bare chest, his jaw set in a defiant grimace. Brennan's heart sank.

"Booth, what's wrong?" She reached a hand tentatively up to his arm, but he jerked away from her touch.

"How can you ask that, Bones?" He wouldn't meet her gaze, and she was quickly moving from confused to angry.

"I _can_ ask it because I don't know the answer, Booth." She sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest.

"After what I did to you last night? I had no right to force myself on you like that. You should have stopped me, Bones."

Brennan was at a loss. She hadn't realized that anything untoward happened last night. It might not have been the ideal situation for their first time together, but Brennan had been happy to be Booth's outlet for release.

"Booth, I recall the events of last night quite well, and I don't recall anything that happened against my will." He finally looked at her, doubt still masking his face.

"Be straight with me, Bones." That desperation was back in his voice, and Brennan was even more confused.

"I don't know what that means, but I don't understand your change in attitude between last night and now. I certainly enjoyed myself last night in being able to help you find release, both sexually and emotionally."

"Woah, jeez, Bones, don't say it like that." Booth grimaced, but his arms came down from his chest, one of them landing tentatively on her sheet covered knee. "How could you have enjoyed last night? I told you a horrible story, and then during...I mean, you didn't…?"

"I didn't reach orgasm, no."

"Bones!"

"What I mean Booth, is that even though the events of last night happened the way they did, it was still quite enjoyable."

Booth met Brennan's fierce blue eyes, and saw nothing but one hundred percent truth there. He had his answer. "Well I still don't feel right about it." A small grin played on his lips and Brennan let out a small breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

It was Brennan's turn to grin, "It's not necessary, but I look forward to it." She began to get up, but Booth grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards him. His lips pressed gently against hers, and she responded in kind; this kiss filled with promise instead of desperation.

"You're beautiful in the morning, Bones." Brennan grinned, getting up, Booth right behind her. He found his clothes and pulled them back on, then headed back to his room for a shave and a toothbrush. The day in front of them started now with more promise than Booth had originally thought.


End file.
